


Imaginary Fiend

by ReverseHipster (jaguaria)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, American AU, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Hogwarts is in Wisconsin?, Imaginary Friend!Tom, Imaginary Friends, Kinda Sorta Romance, Originally an Original Work, Out of Character, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 08:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13994382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaguaria/pseuds/ReverseHipster
Summary: Eventually we all give up our imaginary friends and grow up, and this is how Hermione Granger did just that.A set of moments tells the story of Hermione Granger and her imaginary friend Tom Riddle as they grow up together with their complex relationship.





	Imaginary Fiend

**Author's Note:**

> This coming-of-age story was originally an assignment for a class of mine. It had all original characters and was only vaguely a Tomione fic. I fixed it up a little. This is my current OTP, and it has been for a few years. I have finally plucked up the courage to write anything about it.
> 
> Be warned, I almost cried when I wrote this, but don't worry though, Tom lives.

When Hermione Granger was five years old, she fell into a deep hole as she was walking home from school. Seeing the blooming Black Eyed Susans, she had decided to take the more scenic route through the idyllic field near her house and stumbled down said hole. Prairie grass concealed it in tawney threads, rendering it invisible to Hermione’s eyes.

It took her family four days to find her, and she was lucky to have water and the leftovers from her lunch, otherwise she would have been much worse off. She was found calmly sitting up against the side of the hole. Long indents lined the dirt sides, coordinating with the dirt deeply set in her fingernails. Various bugs, spiders, and centipedes crawled around her arms and legs in the wake of flashlight beams. Her curly brunette hair and face were caked in mud as though she mistook it for makeup.

 

“Hello.”

 

She spoke calmly, no, humorously. Her rescuers, volunteer firefighters, were affronted by her demeanor. Clearly, she was in shock from her isolation. They called up to her parents who stood weeping at the top.

 

“Mione! Are you alright, honey?”

 

“Of course I am. I had a great time with the bugs! I was so scared at first, but I’m okay now!” Hermione giggled before launching herself onto the back of the nearest volunteer. With a monkey-like grip on the man, she looked down and smiled impishly. Unbeknownst to everyone, including her parents, she had found an imaginary friend, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

★★★

 

He told her his name was Tom Riddle. With raven hair, pale skin, and dark brown eyes that bore into her soul with a permanent glare, he held a rather intimidating aura for someone who stood at 5’2’’. He admitted, after being asked multiple times, that he was seven years old.

Unwrapping the scratchy shock blanket from herself and placing it on her childishly pink bed, she bounded over to where he sat in the proportionally sized armchair near her bookcase.

 

“A riddle is a puzzle! It’s a synonym.”

 

_I know, I’m not stupid._

 

“I didn’t say that... Hey, do you want to have a tea party with me and my friends?”

 

Tom glanced over to her so-called “friends”. A worn teddy bear, a porcelain doll, and a cat missing an eye blankly stared back. He rolled his eyes and turned back to staring the ceiling, as if it was more interesting than Hermione.

 

_No, that sounds stupid._

 

He didn’t even look at her.

 

“‘Stupid’ is a bad word! You can’t keep saying that!” she responded vehemently.

 

 _Sorry,_ he said sarcastically, _that sounds_ really _stupid... and if you ask me again, I will leave_.

 

Hermione pouted for a moment before a hopeful light came to her eyes.

 

“Okay Tom, how about we read instead?”

 

 _I guess it sounds better than having a girly tea party with inanimate objects._ He crossed his arms and raised his head in a regal manner. _Read aloud. You turn the pages too slow._ Hermione put her hands on her hips and huffed, cheeks puffing up in anger.

 

“Why can’t you read your own book?”

 

This question caused Tom to narrow his eyes and clench his teeth. He bit out a scathing phrase.

 

“Because I can’t pick up anything! My hand goes right through.”

 

He demonstrated this by waving his hand frantically through a book sitting on Hermione’s desk and consequently the desk itself. Hermione’s anger melted into pity, even if she didn’t comprehend it. When Tom saw this, he quickly distracted her.

 

    _I want to read that one._ He pointed to the beat up copy of _Hansel and Gretel_ on the shelf. Hermione didn’t really like the story. Her mother sometimes read it to her when she misbehaved because she knew that Hermione hated the ending. However, she didn’t want to anger Tom any further, so they read it anyway.

 

★★★

 

    The lunchroom of Hogwarts Middle School was particularly crowded. Hermione had gotten used to her silent spectre to the point where she didn’t even think twice about him until he would voice the occasional question.

 

 _Hey, ask Ms. McGonagall about the significance of the appendix._ _Hey, when do we get out of this class?_ _Hey, who was Nicholas Flamel again? I forgot._

 

The questions were usually answered by a hissed response as she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself. She already got enough of that from answering nearly every question in class.

Hermione picked absently at the leftover hotdish in its tupperware container. Tom sat across from her, but he was looking around at the other kids. However, looking around, for Tom, was easily translated to glaring at people as though he could melt them with some kind of laser-vision. She didn’t want to bother him as he was likely in one of his silent but deadly moods. Anything could set the now fifteen-year-old boy into a rage, and since she was the only one who could see him, he usually took his feelings out on her. Hermione looked around at the clusters of friends around the lunchroom and sighed. This was the price of being smarter than the rest of her peers. She was condemned to the outside of friend groups; not to mention the jeers of “teacher's pet” and “freak”. Tom only said one thing about it.

 

_That’s what you get for raising your hand every time someone asks a question._

 

It was usually said in a tone that said ‘what did you expect?’ The last few years with Tom taught her that he had about as much compassion and sensitivity as an electric eel. It didn’t bother her as much as he wanted it to. She was just glad he didn’t frequently tease her along with them.

She looked up from her food before looking in Tom’s general direction. He seemed more mellow now. Still, it was always best to tread carefully where Tom was concerned.

 

“What did you think of Mr. Dumbledore's lecture? I think the way he recounts history is really inspiring. That might be something I want to do when I’m older.”

 

Tom startled at the sound of her voice before looking around wildly, making sure no one heard her. He then bore his ebony eyes into her that shut up any questions about his behavior.

 

  _I think you should realize that you look like you’re talking to the air. You need to be more careful, otherwise the only thing you’ll be doing when you’re older is staring at the_ inspiring _wall of a padded cell!_

 

With that he pointedly got up and walked away. Hermione was speechless. Did she really seem that way to her classmates. She knew having an “imaginary” friend at this age was unheard of, but Tom never really left her. He had tried a few times, but he had become more pained the further away he got from her. He had to be within the same room with her, otherwise he would complain about migraines. The fact that he stormed away spoke volumes about his declaration. He was furious.

 

★★★

 

The “incident” in the lunchroom was all but forgotten. However, Tom began to give Hermione reminders to refrain from talking to him in the presence of others, which resulted in Hermione giving him the silent treatment even when they were alone. It would always last until Tom got fed up with her silence and began yelling at her. It was during one of these arguments that the now-sixteen-year-old was almost exposed.

 

“Oh, so now is it okay to speak to _his lordship_?” she goaded sarcastically.

 

_Not with that attitude. I take back what I said; I prefer you when you’re quiet._

 

“You have some nerve for someone who doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

 

_I am stuck with you, princess, so I might as well make it entertaining._

 

“I can’t believe y---!”

 

Tom quickly turned white and began waving his arm towards the door. Rapidly turning around, she noticed that it was opening and her mother was poking her head in to check on her, a concerned look on her face.

 

“Are you alright Mione? I heard you talking, and very loudly at that.”

 

Hermione chuckled nervously before fishing into the pocket of her dress for her phone and quickly wrenching it out to wave at her mother’s face.

 

    “I’m completely fine. I was just venting to myself over a text from one of my friends. No need to worry about it,” she replied frantically.

 

    “Alright dear, just thought I’d check on you,” she said before shutting the door.

 

Her footsteps gradually faded down the hall, the stompings of a giant. When they couldn’t be heard anymore, Tom exploded, red-faced and nostrils flared.

 

_What were you thinking? One more slip up like that and we’re done for!_

 

Hermione flinched at the volume and whispered hatefully in response.

 

“What was _I_ thinking? You started it. I shouldn’t even talk to you, because the only thing it gives me is anger.”

 

_No! You have to talk to me because you have no one else. You have no friends, no other family, and to make matters worse for you, your own parents barely know you!_

 

Hermione reeled with Tom’s words. They were true. She had no other friends to speak to, and her parents would never understand. They would throw her in a psychiatric hospital if she even mentioned seeing Tom, and if by some chance they ended up there, he would verbally torture her until she wished for death. No, her only option was keeping Tom to herself.

 

★★★

 

    Contrary to Hermione’s former beliefs, their arguments only got worse. What had seemed like teasing and name calling only turned into bitter loathing on her part and frustrated anger on Tom’s. Hermione was now in college, which was far far away from her hometown of Hogwarts, Wisconsin. She even had a few friends, all to the resentment of Tom, who would complain about it every chance he got. In return, she would ask to go with those friends to places that she knew he would hate. Amusement parks, malls, and roller rinks were among Hermione’s favorites. However, Tom had become like a black cloud to her. The forced togetherness had worn on her for years, and she had tried to make do with it, but Tom had resisted her every step of the way.

The worst instance she could think of happened on her first date. Cormac Mclaggen, one of the boys from her biology class, had asked her out, and Tom didn’t like it one bit. For starters, he had to tag along as an unintentional third-wheel, which was a horror in itself, but he also spent the entire time at the restaurant making snide comments and mocking everything Cormac said. Luckily, she was able to keep it together, but had decided to never date again as a result.

 

    _Ugh, I’m so bored. I want to go out. C’mon, at least talk to me._

 

    “No, I am doing my homework, and from the looks of it, we are going to be here all night. So, shut up and sit down!” Hermione replied irritably.

 

_What did you say to me! I’ll have you know that I spent the whole day yesterday following you around that stupid mall, and now you believe that you can sit back and force me to sit here while you do your homework!_

 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Here, watch some mindless television for a while.”

 

Without looking away from her work, Hermione used the remote to turn on the T.V. and punched in a couple random buttons.

 

 _Hey, I don’t want to watch the Nature Channel._ He whined as he turned towards Hermione.

 

“Too bad, that’s what you get for being so rude.” Tom flopped onto the couch in indignation, or at least tried to. He ended up half-submerged in the couch like a poorly-rendered video game character. Normally, this would have been funny to Hermione, but she was too angry to laugh.

 

At this point in the argument, Hermione’s roommate Luna Lovegood stealthily snuck in through her bedroom window and was coming down the hallway of their apartment.

 

 _This is going to be hilarious. I’m going to scare the crap out of her. This is what you get for stealing my leftovers Mione_. Luna mentally giggled.

 

She slowed upon hearing the argument, a skeptical look appeared on her face. As far as she knew, Hermione would never be this angry at one of her friends. Curiously, Luna poked her blonde head out to look in the living room. Hermione was facing the T.V. with an angry look on her freckled face. She then spoke words that chilled Luna’s blood.

 

    “You think I’m selfish! This is my life, you’ve always just hitched on like a freaking parasite! I’m sick of this superiority complex that you seem to have and I am sick of your attitude towards me, my friends, and my choices. Ugh!”

 

Hermione slowly turned around, still seething, but not as before. She actually felt better than she had been in a while. Who knew that letting everything out is such a stress reliever. However, any stress she may have lost returned with a deep vengeance when she looked over to Luna’s pale face. Tom seemed to have just noticed her as well because he swore and tried to sink back down into the couch, as if he was trying to escape Luna’s confrontation.

 

    “W-what was that just now? Who were you talking to?” She spoke almost desperately. She wanted to believe her roommate wasn’t crazy, but she had just been talking to… nothing. Hermione became just as pale, the red flush of anger overtaken by white fear.

 

    “Nothing, I’ve done it for years. It helps me vent. At least I’m not smoking or drinking!” Hermione cried in her own desperation. There was nothing she could do to convince Luna that nothing happened and she knew it.

 

    “Mione, if you are seeing things that no one else can see, you need to get help. From the sounds of it, you _want_ help just as much as you seem to need it.” She moved to grab her phone out of her jean pocket and Hermione leaped out of her seat as if it suddenly caught fire.

 

    “No! Please don’t! I’m fine! I don’t need help!” As if seeing something in Luna’s cerulean eyes that told her that she wasn’t going to listen, Hermione fled both the room and the apartment with Tom following behind her like a reluctant shadow.

 

★★★

 

The Battleground Bay Bridge towered mountainous above the tumultuous murky water. There had been reports of shark attacks for years, so Hermione had decided to stay out of the water. That, and she never learned how to swim, which was more-so because of Tom’s extreme aversion to water rather than her own reluctance. It was a simpler time.

    Hermione gazed down the 80 foot drop with apprehension. Her worst fears were becoming a reality, and there were very few options open to her. She could go back and get help, or she could jump. A world without Tom seemed rather nice to her now. She looked over to where he stood silently. He looked as stressed as she felt, bloodshot eyes shrouded by dark shadowy bags. She could also see a perpetual shiver; whether from anger, fear, or even the wind she could not tell. Hermione looked away in pity, anger forgotten. No matter what she said or thought, at the end of the day, they were both in the same sinking boat. She sighed.

 

    _You and I both know that you won’t jump._ Her head shot up at his quietly hesitant tone.

 

 _It was never a choice._ Hermione said nothing as the wind whipped through her hair and the seagulls circled above their heads like vultures. She stepped away from the railing.

 

 _It’s almost funny. I comforted you after one fall. It only seems fitting to stop you from another._ Where there once was childish malice and teenage anger, now there was… resignation. Like a candle blown out, Tom’s eyes held a smoky grey hue. Empowered by her silence, he found the will to continue.  

 

 _What will you do now? You have a life outside of us. It would be a shame if you had to give that up. You could be happy._ The “without me” was stuck on his tongue, but Hermione heard it nonetheless.

 

_There is no running from this. Doing so would only delay the inevitable._

 

    In her heart, Hermione knew he was right. It would be torture to lose him, but she would not know normalcy or peace until he left her for good.

 

★★★

 

    The months that followed were indeed torture for Hermione. She had gone back to Luna and explained everything from the fall all those years ago to the little arguments. Luna told her that their relationship wasn’t healthy, not mentioning the fact that Tom was imaginary. During Hermione’s reminiscence, Tom stared into space with a wistful smile on his face, which was a rare occurrence in itself.

    Hermione, and consequently Tom, were checked into a psychiatric hospital a few days later. Soon enough, the medicating started. At first, Tom only seemed uncomfortable, his face occasionally twisting into a grimace. The doctors asked how she was feeling and if she could still see Tom. Her truthful responses only came reluctantly, but Hermione and Tom both knew that it was for the best. She couldn’t have an imaginary friend forever, she had to grow up.

During her stay, he got weaker. The stronger medication varied in its effects. One of them made Tom completely silent no matter how much he tried to speak. Upon hearing about this, the doctors immediately added the pill to her daily dosings. Another caused Tom to go into seizures, and Hermione could only watch in horror as he silently convulsed on the floor. About two months in, Tom’s hair began falling out in large black clumps, but he still held his resolve. Hermione admired him for that.

The end was the hardest for her. She could barely stand to look at him anymore. He had eroded away into a shell of who he once was. One of his eyes was now clouded over with a milky white layer that rendered him half-blind. He suffered from frequent nosebleeds and a silent tuberculosis-like cough. A few of his teeth had fallen out and he hadn’t moved from his sitting position on the wall in a week. He would only stare ahead, occasionally nodding or shaking his decaying head in response to her questions.

One day, she didn’t know how but she could feel it, it was Tom’s last day. Hermione feigned taking the “silence pill” and sat at Tom’s side for the whole day. She recounted everything they did together once more, all of the books they’d read and all of the happy little moments they’d shared. He smiled in the same manner as before: wistful.

In the evening, they watched as the sun fell to meet the horizon. Tom moved to set his hand through hers as he looked towards her for the first time in what seemed like years.

 

_Please… watch the sunset for me… I wanted to say thank you for everything. I don’t regret one minute of it, but it’s better this way. I got you through your childhood, you don’t need me anymore... But... wherever I’ll go, I’ll miss you so much._

 

Tears began running down her cheeks. She hesitantly looked over, expecting to see her friend’s corpse, but she was met with the sterile wall. He had faded away, as if he had never been there at all. She sobbed loudly, salty tears now soaking her pale gown. She put her head in her hands and stayed in that position until morning.

 

★★★

 

Hermione sat on her sun-kissed cedar porch with a steaming cup of tea as she watched her six-year-old daughter play in the yard. It had been nearly ten years since her stay in the psychiatric hospital. After a two-month period of recuperation and grief counseling, she had moved far away from Battleground Bay and finished her education at a smaller school on the other side of the country. She obtained a degree in creative writing and became a freelance author who charmed her readers with tales of adventure and imagination.

One of these readers, in turn, charmed her. His name was Ronald Weasley and he had electric blue eyes and fiery red hair. They had met in a small discount bookstore where he had been buying the sequel to one of her novels (for a friend) among others and she had probingly asked his opinion on the series. He had turned around and immediately dropped the three-foot stack on his foot in response to seeing her. This was only a foreshadowing of the surprising relationship between Hermione and her clumsy fan. They had married three years after Hermione had left the hospital, and their daughter Rose was born a year afterwards.

After all this time, she was still thankful for Tom’s presence in her life. Without him, she wouldn’t have met Ron, she wouldn’t have learned the value of tolerance, and, most importantly, she wouldn't have grown up.

Hermione was startled out of her thoughts by Rose’s shrieking laugh.

 

“Mom! I want you to meet Tom, he’s so funny. He says he knows you, but I think he’s lying.”

 

Hermione spit out her tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Share your thoughts, give likes, whatever. They help me become a better writer. There will be more stories in the future, but I seriously doubt I'll continue this one.


End file.
